Conversations with a Hart
by Tigerdust
Summary: No, Dan, that's not a typo. Come to think of it, Jack and Ianto might want a vacation from this one too. M/M slash aplenty, althought nothing too hard-core yet. Rating on the upscale with some Janto meets Jojanto.
1. Chapter 1

Creator's Note: Various authors have tried (and some succeeded) to put their own spin on Exit Wounds and what happens after. This, this is my attempt. But first, I heard this song from Trisha Yearwood's album and thought the chorus was perfect. You'll probably still recognize it after my fiddling, so as such the concept is hers. I'll let you know if I've written any of the songs I'm using. I'm not sure I will, but it's not yet out of the realm of possibilities. After this chapter, Tosh and Owen aren't mentioned again (except in possible passing) and I thought the best place to start from was the ending. Because, after all, aren't all endings just new beginnings?

_Italics_ signify the songs. Oh yes, and I'm not the BBC, RTD, JB, etc. You know the drill. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to go listen to "No Good Deed" from the Wicked soundtrack.

--On With the Show!--

Her sight was vacating her mind, slowly. The last thing she focused on was his smile and his eyes, the last great barrier from his tears. She smiled because she knew. Tosh had been impressive. Ianto would probably have his own way of moving Jack with the fireman's carry, she noted that he might have to. It looked as though he'd have no plans to leave her. It was that same carry that had released Lisa from the clutches of Canary Wharf. Only, Tosh assumed, Ianto probably wouldn't have used a syringe filled with sedative to move Lisa away.

Ianto's willpower in these situations was always, well, impressive. No one understood and loved Torchwood as much as Ianto and Tosh had. Thinking of Lisa made Tosh want to beckon Ianto closer, but he always stayed a bit farther from death, knowing it rather personally more so than most of the Torchwood crew. Oddly enough, the words and the hope clung to her throat, kidnapped by the pain emanating from her wound. She did want to say sorry to Ianto. She knew blood would be murder to clean up.

She regretted not being more proactive like Gwen or being more faithful like Ianto, but she could never realize how much of a perfect blending of the two she had been. She would never realize how loved she had been, even in her loneliness. She smiled at Jack, allowing her eyelids to flutter away finally and meeting Owen in the darkness.

The quiet that consumed her mind as she thought back onto those first few days with Torchwood and getting settled in, that time with the space pig, posing and saving Owen's backside, Suzie's death and Gwen's entrance, being trapped with Ianto and the cannibals, the first time she had met John Hart, and then working with Gwen on the "Island Project", as they had dubbed it for necessity.

She didn't want the memories to bombard her. She watched blood flow slowly from her wound and let the pulse of the alarm set the pace for her memories. She heard the intercom beep, taking her from her trance.

Toshiko Sato gripped onto the nothingness of the floor and dragged herself down the stairs, even setting a projection up for herself and moving the cart with the adrenaline needle around. All to help Owen. Owen, who was forcing her to concentrate and do what she did best.

"Tosh, I need some help here!"

"I'm here."

"Are you alright?"

"Just a machine malfunction."

"Are you hurt?"

"Just my arm." I really don't enjoy lying.

"Okay." I did hope she wasn't lying.

A few minutes pass and things become severely more complicated. This time, I'm feverish and manic with my skill. Not just to save Cardiff, but to save Owen. I don't even have enough composure left, but somehow manage, with my back freezing from the cart and my head numb from the shot of adrenaline, to get him lighting and a way out. "Now, seal the building and the containment will be set in. Just remember to get out."

"Thanks, Tosh. I usually have trouble remembering that part."

"That's what I'm here for."

He screams into my ear while I fight to breathe and feel. I grit my teeth and the beginning of my eyesight glazing over is setting in. My fingertips graze the floor in an attempt to feel as I helplessly watch the toxic levels all around him rise after the door seals itself.

"Owen, just stay calm!"

"Where's the fun in that? I'm going to wage my way into oblivion! Give me one good reason why I shouldn't keep screaming?"

"Because you're breaking my heart!"

_Wasn't this bound to happen?_

_Wasn't this just a matter of time?_

_This world is just too small for us to really say goodbye"_

_You smile that smile that you get when being nervous_

_Like you don't know what to do_

_But this is me you're talking to_

_I__'ve heard that you admit it_

_But that the feelings didn't take too long_

_I'll submit it isn't easy_

_Knowing we can never move on_

_But I can see in all those movements_

_How anyone could easily fall for you_

_This is me you're talking to_

_Me, the one who really knows you_

_Me, the one who's heart you've broken_

_Me, the one who continues hoping_

_The one who'll be missing you_

"Tosh, it's not your fault. Listen. You've saved my backside so many times, from the second I joined."

I laugh weakly, remembering. Maybe he can tell we're both closer to death than we've ever truly been before. "Your second week. Pretend I was a medic-space pig."

_We don't have to put on this show_

_We can just pretend to be only friends_

_As much as I would love to_

_I don't really think I can_

"We never really did get that date, did we, you and me? We kind of missed each other. It's my fault."

_You don't have to tell me that you really love me_

_After all that we've been through_

_This is me you're talking to_

"I didn't notice it until it was too late. I'm sorry."

_Me, the one who really knows you_

_Me, the one who's heart you've broken_

_Me, the one who continues hoping_

_The one who'll be missing you_

"Owen. It's alright."

_You don't have to say you do_

_This is me you're talking to_

_This is me you're talking to_

"I like to think of the world as an interconnected database program, full of human likes and dislikes. One of those dislikes under fear might be death, worse is loneliness. But death without loneliness? I don't have that. Because now we both know. Because now we've both lived. I think a late night news anchor could say it best for the rest of the team, for the things I see in Torch wood's eyes. But it's alright, it really is.

**Sources say it's too early to account for the extent of damages. **

Maybe the end is where we start from. This is Toshiko Sato, in her last private Torchwood transmission, logging off."


	2. Chapter 2

Creator's Note: Queen is one of the best bands ever. I'm, however, not a member of that band. But that doesn't make them any less awesome.

Ianto stood outside his second favorite place in the Hub. His shoes echoed until he stilled on the entrance crossing into the Archives. Suzie's desk lay right behind him. He didn't have to look. In his mind's eye, he saw it. He saw Suzie's desk laden with Gwen's trappings. A favorite picture of her and Rhys from college, Ianto still wasn't sure what exactly possessed her to put it out, and a couple of her favorite coffee mugs. The latter Ianto had kept obsessively full until she had drank so much it had almost been replacing her tears. She probably did it to give herself something to do.

Gwen was strong. Jack was strong. Ianto was strong to a degree. And the Rift was never stronger. Ever since John Hart and Grey, well, Harkness had messed with the calibrations; Ianto had spent a week, which felt like a month, trying to bring every setting back to the detailed way Tosh had it set for alerts and sensor information. Ianto missed Tosh. A hand seemed to crush his heart inward when he thought of Tosh.

She had been so sweet, and wonderful, and brilliant, and Ianto had better stop himself before he began to cry again. He put his fingers on either side of the bridge of his nose to keep himself from breaking down for the third time this week. Ianto had to try and move on. The first part of that was what he was sauntering into the archives to do. He was preparing to finish the last reports on Owen's death and Tosh's latest computer upgrades for the SUV. Best get to it, Ianto thought.

Jack scheduled a meeting for ten minutes and he nodded to himself as he mentally clicked it onto his Torchwood daily list. The first few days he had spent with his music, but that had been no good either. It didn't shut out his mourning or the pain. The echoes, he could will himself to be used to. He was beginning to wonder what would happen when someone new came and he found their coffee cups and their pictures at Tosh's workstation. He suspected he'd hyperventilate that first time and then come to terms with it. Fairly worse that he had with Gwen; Suzy hadn't been especially charming or close to him.

_Empty spaces_

_What are we living for?_

_Abandoned places_

_I guess we know the score_

_On and on_

_Does anybody know what we are looking for?_

His alarm beeped for the tourist office. He had a sign on the door allowing himself ten minutes with which to be "back in" and help whomever was looking for information. The touristy season had been dry this year, which was understandable what with "a major main breakage" as the news reporters had politely put the meltdown that had occurred an age ago. Let us call it the age of Towen, Ianto mused to himself, sounds a bit of Tolkien, doesn't it? Isn't what we had, the stuff legends are made of?

_Another hero, another mindless crime_

_Behind the curtain, in the pantomime_

_Hold the line_

_Does anybody want to take it anymore?_

Ianto climbed through the corridor, waving briefly to Jack who was pretending to still be immersed in his daily paperwork when he cocked his head forward from his office. There was still a drop or two of sweat from his earlier chase of a rogue weevil that had broken through the Rift conveniently close to the Cardiff Bay Bridge where Joshua had been sent to the Island. Luckily, everyone in the area had been at work. There hadn't been much to RETcon. Gwen was off doing, well, whatever it was Gwen filled her days with now. Ianto did his best not to pry. It wasn't his business, unless, of course, Rhys had become a cyber man, which he doubted highly. Rhys would have probably made a better Dalek anyways.

_The show must go on_

_The show must go on_

_Inside my heart is breaking_

_My makeup may be flaking_

_But my smile still stays on_

There was a knock on the door. "Okay, okay. I'm returned." Ianto exclaimed in his low Welsh accent as he buzzed the lady with the dark ponytail into the office.

"Hello. I'd like information on the whereabouts of the Nightingale." Martha Jones exclaimed with a sort of sad smile. "How are you, Ianto?"

"Martha." Ianto moved away from the desk and gave her an uncharacteristic hug.

"It's good to see you to, Ianto. Mind if I have air?"

"Sorry. It's just that I've gone a bit soft, what with all that's happened." Ianto choked on a half-sob in his throat.

"Oh Ianto. I wish I could have..."

"Nope. No wishing. All we have is what we have now. That's something we've all learned from this experience."

"You're an amazing man, Ianto."

"Well, what are we standing around here for? Jack will want to see you. Shall I get you a coffee?"

"In that order? I don't know, yes, and yes please. The Unit seemed off-color being spoiled with your wonderful coffee."

Ianto's ears turned red in response.

_Whatever happens_

_I'll leave it all to chance_

_Another heartache_

_Another failed romance_

_On and on_

_Does anybody know what we are living for?_

As they waited for the door to roll back, Ianto made a comment.

"May I ask what you're doing back here at Torchwood?"

"Didn't Jack tell you? He called me." Martha walked up towards Gwen in a sneaky manner.

_I guess I'm learning_

_I must be warmer now_

_I'll soon be turning round the corner now_

_Outside the dawn is breaking_

_But inside in the dark, I'm aching to be free_

I guess this explains the meeting, Ianto thought as he sat in his normal chair, somewhat across the way from Jack. Coffees laid on the table in the back, ready for refilling at a moment's notice and Martha's knuckles rested half-cheerily on the gleaming steel table. She was happy to see the remnants of Torchwood Three, but wished it were under different circumstances.

"As you may have guessed," Jack stood for a bit of effect, "I've asked Martha to come back just for a little while."

"Why?" Gwen interjected, curiously.

"Because" and Jack sighed again for a bit of dramatic effect, "we need a break. You never speak. Ianto moves like a ghost, I brood on my best day, and we need a five member team. Three will make us all crazy until the end of the next millennium."

Ianto and Gwen lost their breath simultaneously, too stunned to really speak. Martha proceeded to fill the gap.

"Jack called me exactly three days and one hour ago. He explained all that had happened and we struck a plan."

"When were you intending on telling us?" Ianto blurted out, tinged with a bitter of anger on being left out.

"It was all spur of the moment Ianto. I'd never want to hurt you like that." Ianto nodded, looking into Jack's eyes.

"While I'm thrilled you're here, what does this mean exactly?" Gwen pointed a look somewhere between the standing Jack and sitting Martha, whose hands were clutching her iPod for support under the table.

"What it means is that I'm taking Ianto on vacation for a rest to get recharged and you are going to spend some much needed time with your husband."

Gwen blinked just briefly before managing an "Oh."

"I'll also be handling the hiring of two new Torchwood Three operatives. Jack and I both agree that all three of you are too, well, attached to make a proper job of it."

_The show must go on_

_The show must go on_

_Inside my heart is breaking_

_My makeup may be flaking_

_But my smile still stays on_

"And what will you do then? Protect the Rift by yourself?"

"I've given her access to Torchwood and she will stay here directing a personal Unit branch which she will RETcon at the end of our vacation."

"My Unit will have extreme discipline and explicit directions on how things are run so that we are as close to your group as possible."

"Probably a far-sight more disciplined." Ianto interjected, now thoroughly aware he was staring into his own coffee more than at Martha. She went across the table, and put her hand over his.

"You need this." Martha looked at Gwen and Jack. "You all need this. Your end of the world was as heavy as mine was and your losses just as precious. Don't worry; I won't let the world end again until you get back. That way no one will blame me."

She smiled down at Ianto and he smiled back slightly, adding the idea of sending flowers to one Martha Jones in thank you from his vacation destination.

_I'll face it with a grin_

_I'm never giving in_

_On with the show_

Jack and Ianto sat in his apartment a short time later, deciding where to splurge a bit of their saved up money.

"Cold or warm?"

"Wherever you want." Jack's eyes looked deep into Ianto, in the old way that used to make him gasp for air."

"Seaside or inland?"

"Wherever you want."

"Jack, this is not helping! I'm rubbish at this!"

"I know." Jack swept the brochures and information he had printed off, oh yes, he'd been planning this for three days, of the table and with a great flourish produced a small globe from beneath the table.

"And now I understand why you bought me a glass globe."

"Yes sir. It's not just pretty but it's also quite helpful."

Ianto had to admit, his glass-blown and hand-painted artisan globe was an amazing gift, one which he doubted he'd be able to match anytime soon. "What now then?"

"Wherever it lands is where we'll go."

Ianto gulped. "Okay, spin."

_The show must go on_

_The show must go on_

_Inside my heart is breaking_

_My makeup may be flaking_

_But my smile still stays on_


	3. Chapter 3

"I think I'm getting bugs in my teeth, Jack."

"It's good for you, Ianto. That's protein you're chewing on."

"Bullocks to protein, Jack! Couldn't we have had a car with a top?"

"Ianto, may I remind you that _you _said I could splurge?"

"That's completely out of context! You were eating four muffins that morning!"

"I was hungry. We're on vacation." Jack offered it with a shrug.

"You'd best be careful about eating like that."

"We're on vacation, Ianto." Jack swore he heard Ianto mutter something about his waistline. "Besides, what are you complaining about? We got lots of compliments in Vatican City."

"Jack, we're in a red Ferrari!"

"It's a classic, Ianto," Jack said as he took the last bag out and shut the trunk. "I wouldn't feel right going down the Italian coastline without something classic. Think of it as a good suit."

"Somehow, that doesn't make me feel a whole lot better."

The villa loomed ahead. Okay, Ianto thought, loomed might not be a good word. It wasn't gloomy nor dark. There was definitely a nice change of pace from Cardiff here in Italy. He folded the map back into the glove box and helped Jack with the last bag as they marched up to the lobby and received two room keys.

"Honeymoon?"

Jack looked at Ianto and didn't miss a beat. "Is it that obvious?" He drew a blushing Ianto into a one-armed hug.

The blond hostess shook her head, her dangling hoop earrings clanging against her neck. "When you've been on this job as long as I, you can just tell."

"Just make sure we have a do not disturb sign for the door," Jack chuckled and Ianto was aware that he was probably the same shade as a cardinal at that moment.

The hostess winked right back. "Will do, sir. And we've welcomed you with a complimentary champagne dinner this first night of your stay. We hope you'll enjoy Italy and if there's anything we can do for you, please don't hesitate to ask."

"Thank you so much. I'm sure we will." Jack pulled the very polite Ianto out of the lobby by the elbow as they followed a couple of youths to their private villa, bags in tow.

Jack and Ianto hadn't really had time to talk, well, ever. It was strange, the silence between them as they unpacked. Unless you count Jack's exclamations about Ianto's folded underwear and the amount of different compartments his luggage held. Cotton versus silk, he heard Ianto mutter. Ianto had been muttering sweetly under his breath for most of the trip.

They smiled at each other while they ate, candlelight and mugginess thick with bugs surrounding them. Both were vaguely aware that neither knew where to begin. Ianto read after dinner, looking up every now and then at Jack who channel-surfed Knight Rider in Italian.

The mornings were breath-taking at the villa. Dew dropped in the mist; the flowers on their balcony receiving healthy doses of attention. They faced an unparalleled view of an old dirt road and nothingness in all directions. They had chosen this for privacy, they were at least a mile from the nearest town that morning.

The flowers covered most of the outside view as Jack and Ianto searched each other on the terrace beneath the morning sun, discovering ways of knowing each other without the restraints of Cardiff or the Rift. In the back of each mind was a nagging just to know. Just to know everything was alright.

"Let's go into town today." Ianto interjected with brief hesitation over cereal and milk. Jack's face crept down from his Italian newspaper.

"But I thought we agreed to stay in all day, in and out of our terry robes."

"While I enjoy your dapper copper-colored nipples as much as the next man, I'd like to absorb some local culture. And I wanted to do some light shopping. Flowers for Martha. Maybe a postcard for Gwen or something to that effect."

Jack smiled. "Even on vacation you can't just think of yourself."

Ianto smiled back knowingly. "I live to please."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Take it any way you want."

Jack and Ianto rifled under the shower, soaping each other's hair and enjoying the frivolous closeness in the large jets of water. Each was thoroughly clean and wrinkly when they appeared and chose various outfits. "One rule. No suit today."

"Oh, Jack. Not for shopping." Ianto chose a navy blue polo shirt and slacks while Jack found a solid grey shirt and some khaki shorts.

"You're going to be boiling hot in those slacks."

"I'll adapt sir."

"Ianto..." Jack growled.

"Just kidding." Ianto rose his hands in mock defense. "Now, come on, I'd like to get to town and have some authentic Italian food before everywhere closes."

"It's not even noon yet."

"Something tells me we're going to have trouble leaving the villa."

"And what is that, Ianto?"

"You."

"Well, to be fair, they do think it is our honeymoon. Who are we to disappoint them?" Jack leapt across the bed and pinned a struggling Ianto, tickling his ribs while the other tried to wriggle away. "Is this what you want?"

In the afterglow of the tickle fight, Jack and Ianto donned matching shades and went to retrieve their car for a trip to the city. The sun and wind billowed as Jack drove through fields of mustard seed, skin and ground golden from the sun. Ianto began to smile as he relaxed, his hand resting on Jack's knee as he switched gears. Jack offered a warm smile and Ianto let out a howl of pleasure.

The town was only slightly packed. Italian streets were narrow and each street just seemed that way. It didn't take more than four or five people for it to achieve "packed" status. Jack and Ianto ate honey gelato and sniffed the air for bread while listening to the songs of mothers putting laundry out to dry. They sauntered into a farmers market and Jack began picking at the tomatoes, picking a couple of delicate ones with a knowing smile. Ianto talked with a shop owner in broken Italian about flowers, choosing a bouquet of white lilies and yellow roses.

"What are those for?"

"Martha."

"What are those for?"

"Nothing."

"You're up to something, Jack Harkness."

Jack ran a little ahead of Ianto. "Me? When was I ever up to something?"

They stopped to snap a couple of obligatory pictures at a small fountain that wasn't Trevi, but was still incredibly romantic looking. Looking back on the roll later, Ianto would visibly giggle as Jack made pretend kisses on his cheek and they held each other as various cherubs peed in the background.

Jack stopped in at a butcher stop while Ianto went across the street for other shopping purposes. When they met ten minutes later, Ianto eyed Jack's bulging package suspiciously. Jack just smiled and shrugged, full of hints and surprises.

The air turned dusty just briefly. Down a set of stone steps, Jack found a game of soccer going between some college-aged students. Two of them smiled at Jack and pointed, motioning him over to the game. At first he denied, but it became clear to Ianto he wouldn't mind playing. The air grew dustier as Ianto cheered Jack on, raising his fist at each goal. His maneuvers were sweeping and unparalleled. He took off his shirt and more than a few of the players ogled a bit as he handed his shirt to Ianto. A few minutes later, some were rubbing a bit closer to him while trying to retrieve the ball at his feet. The sweat clung to dust.

As they made their way back to the villas, Jack and Ianto were dusty but extremely happy. Jack might not have yet explained the mystery shopping things he bought, but Ianto didn't care. Not when he was holding him, back pressed to the shower wall. I love sports, he heard Jack murmur just briefly when Ianto's jaws opened a second later in amazement and made a sound. Where had Jack learned to do that?

The next morning was spent quite a bit like the last, only there was less hassle for dressing. Jack packed a lunch with his mystery packages and Ianto found a single yellow motorbike in the place of their red convertible the next morning.

"I thought you wanted class?" Ianto looked back towards his immortal lover.

"Well, I have you for that. And hopefully we won't be running into anyone else today."

They picnicked on an isolated hill beneath a twisting tree, each leaning against the hill and enjoying sandwiches and laughs. Jack had even bought a classic checkered tablecloth to spill on. And he even made Ianto promise he wouldn't clean up afterwards.

Ianto began to feed Jack trivia he had learned in their trek across Italy. He was genuinely interested in all the things this culture offered and Jack watched his eyes light up as he talked about great artists and great food. A thought struck him that maybe retiring wouldn't be such a bad idea. He sighed.

"Am I boring you?"

"No, just thinking."

"Then I really am boring you."

"Well, thanks for that vote of confidence. No, I mean it."

"And what were you thinking about?"

"What it would be like if we never left this hillside and we never strayed from the Italian sun."

Ianto took another bite of sandwich and his face became serious as he thought and chewed. "We couldn't, you know."

Jack sighed again. "I know."

Ianto shook his head. "That's not it. What we have to do is simply," he put his hand on Jack's heart, "keep it in here. And then we'll never have to leave. No matter how much rain gets in my shoes or how many pigeons make trouble on your coat."

"You're a romantic genius, know that?"

"Guilty as charged, I suppose."

"Tosh and Owen would have loved that last museum."

Jack smiled wearily. "They would have, wouldn't they?"

"Was there a rule that we couldn't think of them on this trip?"

"I've broken that rule a couple of times, Ianto."

"So have I. I sent Martha two of the national flowers of Italy and sent a book back for Gwen and Rhys. "

Jack moved closer to the younger man. He put his hand over Ianto's. "Take some time for yourself."

"What do you think I have you for?"

Jack gave Ianto's arm a little punch and Ianto punched back. They tumbled around until Ianto could see the sun setting through Jack's hair.

"Time to go?"

"Time to go." Ianto smiled warmly, sauntering again with the man who he'd allowed himself to fall in love with all over again. And even letting him pick up the dishes from the picnic.

They didn't wander away from the villa and its private swimming pool until the cool of the next night. Candle light mingled with neon as they found the trendy clubs in the nearby town. The beat of some Italian remix played out front as Jack pulled up and paparazzi began snapping photos as he and Ianto made a move through the ropes.

"Park your car, sir?"

"Jack, that voices sounds familiar."

Ianto turned and gasped, the lights of flash catching his utter surprise.

"John Hart?"

"Eye candy?"


	4. Chapter 4

Ianto steadied himself as he entered into the third round of shots. The alcohol burned slightly, but he didn't cough like that first time that seemed forever ago. Lisa and his twenty-second birthday party, for no other reason than he'd been working on his twenty-first.

John Hart sat across from Jack Harkness and made, God help him, small talk. Like nothing had happened. Like Grey had never come waltzing back into all their lives and taking some precious gifts from them. Stealing John's ego, Jack's innocence, and Ianto's spirit. Ianto swallowed a bit more, remembering what he had said to John and then to Grey. Of course he sounded like nothing more than a conquest.

"Eye candy? Did you hear me? I asked if you remembered Jack ever telling you about the Veltorian triplets?"

"Can't say that I have. You been holding out on me, then, Jack?"

"I'd never hold out on you, Ianto."

"Bullocks, Jack. The Time Agency sent us on a mission and somehow we ended up in this safe house freeing Stentorian slave girls from years of sectarian violence and herding them across a continental divide. In any case, there were these three green girls that..."

"Oh, look at the time. I think the ravers are out."

Indeed, Ianto thought, barely noticing the frequent subject change. It was, after all, one of Jack's favorite options for alienating himself from everyone. Including John Hart, apparently. Ianto's face showed a little half-smirk. Nothing really ever changed.

The metal staircase that descended into a pit of tables and dancing floor was lined with Italian youth dressed in various leather and fairy costumes, dazed looks dotting the crowd, mesmerized by the beams of lasers coming from the dj booth. The times did turn and change all around them, but two immortals and a dutiful servant seemed oblivious to it all. It was only after a second shot of Wild Turkey that Ianto had had quite enough of the run around.

"What are you doing in Italy? Did you know we were here?"

"Suspicious, eye candy? Well, I'm flattered to say the least. No, you are just a by-product of wishful thinking."

"Wishful thinking? You been up to no good, Hart?" Jack's grin had a maddening wink to it. He very well knows the answer before he even asked the question, Ianto quipped to himself.

"I wouldn't exactly call it no-good, Jack. This world of your is interesting...not quite with the nineteen ways of pleasure, but you've got the kama sutra, which is a step in the right direction...which reminds me, eye candy, do you have your copy in the mail or is there some reason you seem to be inching closer to Jack each second?"

"You'd know, wouldn't you?"

"Ianto, I'm surprised at you. Where's that famous Welsh charm you've been known for all along?" Jack's speech had just a hint of slur to it, enough for Ianto to know his defenses were just down slightly, never completely.

"You, sir, are drunk. And that Welsh charm does not extend to saboteurs and near murderers. I'll return momentarily."

"Now just wait a moment eye-candy." Ianto felt John pull on his wrist as he stood, away from the table. "Now that you've brought it up, I'll have you know I didn't want to do most of what Grey had for me. You think it was easy burying Jack? I almost bloody gave myself away with the ring."

"Pity you couldn't have used it to save Tosh, then, could you?"

"Oh yeah? And what about Owen? Who sent him to that power plant? That's right, eye candy. Not quite as perfect as you'd like to believe yourself to be, are you?"

John and Ianto were aroused with the scent of fight and alcohol, tongues loosened just enough to bring seething wounds to the surface, with a helpless Jack caught in the center.

"At least I can keep him happy."

"With what, servitude? Performing your wifely duties well?"

"You're one to talk, aren't you? Couldn't man up until it was too late?"

"I'm not the one that whined at Grey after making futile attempts at trying to scare me."

"Don't start what you can't finish, Hart."

"I never do."

"Now, now, boys. Stop fighting over me. There's enough of me to go around." Jack tried valiantly to defuse the situation with humor.

"You don't want the truth? Why not, Jack?"

"Yes, eye candy has a valid point. We're all men here, let's be honest."

John bent down and kissed Jack. "Now, what do you feel?"

Jack was stunned, momentarily. He looked from John to Ianto before the idea broke through. This was all about him and his future. There would be no winner here. Not that he had expected them to be friends, but John knew things Ianto could never know. And Ianto could do things John would never dream of.

"Amateur." Ianto reached forward and took Jack's chin into his own before beginning a concerto of small nips leading towards fireworks of a kiss. Jack was very dazed at this point and would have jumped on both of them like a manic rabbit. He was definitely reaping the rewards of this fight.

"Oh yeah?" John gave Ianto a little push on the shoulder.

"Yes, Hart. The better man always wins." He gave a little shove back on the shoulder and then John kissed him. Ianto was stunned, to say the least.

John Hart hadn't quite known what he was looking for that night. Each town he had been in, he had stolen bigger and better to get around. Well, you couldn't just expect a dynamic personality like his to be kept under the law of something as common as money, could you?

When John had seen the car, he had been drawn to its classic lines and its red exterior. He had also been drawn to the man in the front seat, but wouldn't let on since he could only see him from the back. So, he had ripped the valet shirt off of a very young and very impressionable Italian boy and then had tried to take the keys. Only to run into Ianto Jones and Jack Harkness, the two people he'd never expect to see again. It's like seeing your parents prom photos and realizing you look just like one of them.

Kissing John Hart did not have all the spirit of the gleeful and magnetic Jack Harkness. Kissing John Hart was a different sort of man, a sharp realist with gaze and purpose. He could suck the very charisma from you; probably the best balance for Jack Harkness there had ever been. At least, before Ianto had been born.

They broke away, stunned, and Ianto ordered another round. They didn't talk for awhile until Jack broached the subject.

"So, you're a valet?"

John wanted to light up a cigarette. "Not quite."

"What are you, then?"

"Just me."

Ianto recognized the Coors remix from the moment the first chord began. His cousin Caradine had an infatuation with the young sibling band from Ireland, if he remembered correctly. They all seemed to same the sound to him. Jack got up and asked him to dance. He set himself down firmly, and shook his head.

"Would you mind then, eye candy?"

John Hart is asking me permission? Ianto marveled in his thoughts, not even giving John the time to hear his no as he led Jack onto the dance floor.

_Don't want you for the weekend_

_Don't want you for a day_

_Don't need a love; defy it_

_Don't want to feel this way_

_See I want you need to me_

_Just like I need you_

_I want you to see me_

_Like no one before_

John Hart gave a vigorous performance amidst some very drugged young people. Jack and John meshed well, it was true. Jack's hips rotated around John and John's hands moved across Jack's shoulder. Jack looked back toward Ianto as John pulled him closer and put his fingers through Jack's belt loops. Ianto was becoming slightly jealous, but maintained his firm position on the dancing. However, the remix did have a nice beat.

_You're irresistible, You're natural, Physical_

_It's indefinable, You're magical, Illogical_

_So make you mine above, Mine_

They were too close, swaying in too great a rhythm for Ianto not to pound back another shot. Ianto was rarely blitzed, had a keen sense and quite a high tolerance for alcohol. He seemed to have been born with it. The last time he was drunk was the weekend after Jack left. Even Gwen wasn't incredibly surprised when he came in on Monday morning in his usual suit, but with a noticeable lingering of alcohol around him.

_So can't you see I'm in torture_

_Oh, Can't you hear my pain_

_If you just let me show you_

_I'll be your summer rain_

_Let me feel that you want me_

_Just like I want you_

_You'll know no things better_

_It's like nothing before_

He got up slowly with his hands in his pockets, beginning to walk with the beat. Ianto bobbed his head forward with it, as he joined them. At first, it was about standing near and watching, being apart of the laughter. At first it wasn't about having Jack breathing in front of him and having John grinding behind. At first, it was about reminding Jack who he really was and what he really wanted. Or was it the other way around? Ianto was having a bit of trouble remembering.

_Now you feel that I feel you_

_Don't you know it's more_

_I can take you to places_

_Like never before_

He could feel a low growl permeating in his throat and alarm bells going off. He couldn't, could he? He remembered Jack telling the woman at the desk that they were on honeymoon. But he didn't believe it himself. Or could he?

_You're irresistible, You're natural, Physical_

_It's indefinable, You're magical, Illogical_

_So make you mine above, Mine_

As they exited the dance floor, sweat and something more lingered in the air. The skin on Ianto's arm became sensitive to the hovering fingertips of Jack and the breath of John on his neck. The lasers were having an effect on him and they sat back down for one more shot.

"I'm calling a cab. We'll get back to the villa. John, bring our car around?" Jack was smiling, quite proud of himself.

"Sod off, Harkness. Say, could I crash at your place tonight?"

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea." Ianto stopped right after that and they enveloped into a silence as Ianto began to convince himself that it was a bad idea, and not, in fact what was currently playing out in his head to its natural end. No, very bad idea he told himself.

"Are you thinking naughty thoughts, Ianto?" Jack's grin got a little broader as Ianto turned a deeper shade of red and began to sputter.

"So eye candy has a dirty mind, does he? Shall we show him what a real dirty mind can come up with?" John whispered the words with unnecessary accuracy.

"I'm game if he is."

They looked at Ianto and he felt trapped. What was he going to say now? Either way, John would worm his way in. And it's not like he couldn't be accommodating. Well, he didn't want to think of that right this second.

"I'll go fetch us a cab then and put the keys on reserve for the morning."

"No, no, Ianto." Jack made a motion with his finger and sat the younger man down briskly. "This time, you are getting served." John kept his knowing grin to himself.

There was a squeal of tires and someone rushed in, speaking in very fluent and anxious Italian. John's face became very dark and serious.

"Jack's been kidnapped."

Ianto and John rushed out into the night, nearly flipping the table that they had been drinking at moments ago, just in time to hear the squeal of the black Buick as it pealed away into the night. A motorbike lay to the side and John got on.

"Come on, eye candy."

"You can't be serious." Ianto was torn, only briefly, in his love for Jack over the law. "Scoot back. I'll drive and you direct."

The motorbike moved swiftly under Ianto's cool intellect, Hart noted as he directed Ianto down various passage ways with a squeeze in the right direction. They trailed the nondescript Buick into heavier traffic, where it moved down several alley ways. Ianto's adrenaline quickly pounded any alcohol from his system. His Jack was in danger.

John continued supporting him while holding Ianto to his middle. Under any other circumstances, this would have been cause for a few celebratory individual remarks, but John was in a decidedly somber mood. Visions of Americans being slaughtered on Jihad you tube, his Jack, even his immortal Jack. He squeezed closer to Ianto, who deftly guided the motorbike. They followed onto a main highway and then Ianto made an executive decision.

As they turned off away from the vehicle, John began to rage and rant. Brief words of rapid-fire hate in British, Italian, German and French flew at him. He cursed back twice in Welsh for good measure. The wind cut through his innards like a knife, but Ianto was convinced he had made the right decision for the scenario.

As they pulled back up to the villa, John in tow of the running Ianto Jones, they finally had words.

Ianto's face was seething with anger. "So, you're telling me that Captain John Hart wants to go in with only two pistols and a knife into a hidden base of some zealot religious "warriors" without back-up or time to calculate a cool plan to keep them from discovering his former partner, and I'm guessing lover's , ability to not die and get me killed in the process? Thereby earning the ire of the man that you once loved and probably commanded respect from? Tell me if I've gotten any of this wrong, because I'll go in, get what I need and then I'll go rushing in and save him like he has for me so many times. I haven't got the patience for this."

Ianto Jones had managed to make John Hart speechless.

Ianto moved around his luggage with dark purpose. His grim face settled in on John Hart's curious stare. Ianto picked up a copy of Sense and Sensibility he had stored in his carry-on and opened it, revealing a short term alien cloaker Ianto had salvaged from the Archives of Torchwood One.

"Bloody hell, eye candy, Jack was right about you."

"What exactly did he tell you?" Ianto cocked various small revolvers as he spoke and tucked them away quietly in different places.

"That you were brilliant."

"Jack was always as perceptive as he chose to be."

Ianto handed John two long daggers while tucking several sharp knives into his belt buckle in hidden compartments.

"Call me Jones, Ianto Jones. Ready to go save Jack?"

Creator's Note: Nothing quite as fun as using a pop song by the Coors (of which I am not a member). I really love this chapter, by the way.


	5. Chapter 5

The unbridled intensity of metal clasping onto metal; the sharpness in the exhale of the weaponry. John watched Ianto's mind clear of apprehension; watched the grimace move slowly and plague each crinkle until it overtook every sense. He saw then what Jack saw. Ianto Jones was a force of reckoning, a child of nature. Ianto Jones was a bubbling volcano, unsuspected and in the grand tradition of Pompeii.

_Where have all the good men gone and where are all the Gods?_

_Where's the street-wise Hercules to fight back the rising tides?_

The hot motorbike stood outside, a sentinel and testament to their grim mission. Not a word broke the stillness. The wind moved away, cutting a path through the night as they rode again. Ianto at the wheel and John navigating with tracking technology Ianto had placed in various button's on Jack's shirts.

_Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed?_

_Late at night I toss and I turn and I dream of what I need..._

Jack finally felt the rush of cooler air. He had remained still in the backseat, determined not to be disoriented or claustrophobic. He made no pleas and wasn't as scared as the men they normally chose. The principle was always the same, fear and retribution was the way of their tirade. No music, no laughter, just a doomed mission.

_Somewhere after midnight in my wildest fantasy_

_Somewhere just beyond my reach,_

_Someone's reaching out for me_

The place where Jack was finally allowed to see outside of his mask was barren. It was a place full of cheap, falling plaster. No identifying marks plagued the room; a silence that testified to the deserted landscape. There were various bruises and cuts from rough-handling. His body squirmed involuntarily as he was forced to hold in his charms and his need for a toilet. One of them must speak English, he hoped.

_Racing off like thunder and rising with the heat_

_It's gonna take a superman to sweep me off my feet._

The drug store where they stopped, Ianto could only assume later that one of the buttons had fallen off near the door, was emptying quickly. The arrival of the Americans heralded that. Ianto stepped up to the counter without pretense or tact while John watched through the slats of the venetian blinds holding the open sign to the door.

"Where is he?"

"I cannot help you." The voice was strained, alert, and very Italian while the face was Greek and slightly sweaty. New to the climate, that was the first thing Ianto noticed. Obviously not the best choice for a front man.

"I won't give you another chance." The cold chink of his first bit of weaponry hitting the counter noticeably made the adams apple of the man at the counter weave just a bit.

"We have beer and wine in the cooler. It is a fine time of the year for a variety of drinks and snacks to pair with them. We may not have the choice of a Seven-Eleven, but we are sure you will fine..."

The hilt of a small knife smashed against the Plexiglas counter and the forced meeting created a chink that surely would have shattered any other counter and the contents of the display. The man could see the twisted handle plainly and he gulped for air, struggling to his nameless deity for help.

"He won't be harmed."

"He'll tell us what we need to know." John stated this, watching with quiet rage for more cars.

"Negotiations have failed." Ianto released his first weapon. "Now, tell me where he is or take me two him. You have five seconds."

John Hart was both bemused and worried. Normally, he'd have taken the same passionate position, this he would admit, but would Ianto have enough control over himself? Would he do something he would later regret? John understood though. Jack was a powerful person and attracted others to himself just as powerful.

The man broke for his wife and his two sons, mumbling and pleading on the verge of tears. Ianto shot a hole through a flag in the wall. "Pity this, then. That flag won't be the only thing with a hole in it. Where is he?"

The man scribbled a few notes on paper from the counter.

"Can we trust these doodles of yours?" John's words cleared Ianto's heads once again.

"I want no trouble. I just do as I'm told." His eyes pleaded for forgiveness, his tongue heavy in his throat for these traitorous doings. "What could I do? They gave me my start, a way out. A hope for my wife and children."

"Stop explaining; the train with pity left for the tube ten minutes ago."

"Thank you for sparing me."

"If he's hurt, there's no telling what you'll be like when we return."

Ianto turned to go as John held the door open. "They won't kill him." The clerk begged it as an afterthought.

"Of course they won't." Ianto and John knew that much for a fact.

The directions weren't worthless, but various rows of non-descriptive houses lay in the same quadrant. John and Ianto began raking windows, looking for light, and finding the remnants of Jack's shirt in various parts of the road. Ianto sighed, his adrenaline being taxed and the tracker of no more use.

John was worried as he watched Ianto's finger dredge forward onto his brow, the creases edged and deep. The attitude and fighting spirit of Torchwood sustaining him.

"Stand still." John kissed him, breathing a bit of Jack back into Ianto. "Now, let's go find him." Ianto, momentarily stunned, nodded.

The sound of a video camera. It might be a faint thing to most, but a twitch of Ianto's ear lead them to the right abandoned house. The car had been abandoned not far away, they noted. In the shadows they lie in wait until they heard Jack's voice.

"My name is John Smith."

The camera stopped and they began to yell at him, various sounds of slapping from a weapon across Jack's face, shoulders, or back. Determination and anger set in Ianto's chest, a dull pain reaching through his heart.

John whispered. "On the count of three."

_I'm holding out for a hero_

_Til the end of the night_

Jack saw the flurry of action out of the corner of his eye. He was doing his best impression for the camera of a panicked American citizen on holiday who just happened to be kidnapped and harassed into filming a video for ransom or threat. Various fresh bruises appeared above his forehead and on various parts of his face.

_He's gotta be good, and he's gotta be fast_

_And he's gotta be fresh from the fight_

The cameraman shifted his focus as he watched helplessly. Ianto and John shot just above the ransomers heads, causing them to duck momentarily. John moved swiftly, kicking the shit out of most, while Ianto moved deftly and stunned them to near oblivion. Not a word passed for nearly a minute as they hovered quickly above the ground, Ianto's tie moving in an invisible wind and John's fist pounding its way into oblivion. The camera caught most of the action. John popped out the film for later review, a souvenir of "eye candy" he'd cherish for many hours to come.

_And he's gotta be larger than life_

_Larger than life_

Ianto turned as the last lay still. "Jack, I..."

"Wasn't worried. I knew you'd come for me. Couldn't go without your Captain for one night, could you? You know, normally I'd be all for the kidnapping role playing too..."

"Nothing like a good holiday with drinking and action to get the blood flowing, eh Jack?" John began to pump his muscles on his forearm. Ianto snarling stare hit John squarely between the eyes, stumbling under its weight. Jack and Ianto didn't notice anything but each other after that.

John returned with them to the villa in the "borrowed" Buick, that he would be making full use of to leave the country soon. He was sure of that. The night was waning and dawn was becoming clearer all the time. Lights from the countryside played a show with the shadow. John could hear it, tossing from the couch. The groans and pleasures of Jack and Ianto. He was forever locked away; a memory and distant. The feeling was cold.

_I don't think that I could take another empty moment_

_I don't think that I could fake another hollow smile_

John Hart rose from the sofa, stopping for a brief second as his hand touched the door. He wanted to walk away; didn't want to hear it or even allow himself to feel the things he felt. The jealousy and the betrayal; the feeling of another in his territory earning his groans with the passion that only he should feel. The tightening intensified until he laid back down, his head just aware that shapes above him were passing through, flesh colored and heaving with a breadth of lust and need.

_But it's not enough just to be lonely_

_I don't think that I could take another talk about it_

He got up again, bolting away in his exhaustion and the new realization of Jack, of Jack's new life. The thought made him sluggish and chipped away at his cavalier shell. He whispered the name of the adversary, the lover. He whispered the name of Ianto Jones and he grimaced, his face slacking afterwards without emotion. Just the pain; the wincing blind pain of loss.

_Don't want to be the one who turns the whole thing over_

_Don't want to be somewhere where I just don't belong_

It's over, he thought, as he scrawled the note. It's all over and none of it was worth it or worth telling, not anymore. The note took it all out of him. He fell back to the couch, exhausted, a comatose sleep enveloping him.

_Well it's not enough just to be sorry_

_Don't you know I feel the darkness closing in_

Jack was startled to see him, confident in assuming he would be gone once he heard the love making from the previous night. But he snored softly, a note clutched between his hands. He sighed as he read it and moved back into the bedroom, honoring the silent intentions. He'd give John Hart his forgiveness and he'd give him these terms. He'd remember that note too. The note that said simply: I'll Be Watching_._

Creator's Note: I hope you've enjoyed the story. The characters belong to the BBC and TW (RTD, JB, GDL, and JM) and the songs come from the Shrek 2 Soundtrack (Not the remix, but the one by Jennifer Saunders that I'd always wanted to use to choreograph for a fight scene) and from Matchbox 20 (Bed of Lies off the Mad Season album...at least, I'm pretty sure that's the name of the album). I know I leave a lot of questions, but are you willing to have faith that I might have the answers?


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